Pee-Wee Harris on the Trail eBook

It was not normal breathing surely, but it was the
sound of breathing. He was certain of that.
He thought it was over near the car.

CHAPTER IX

THE TENTH CASE

The thought that there was a living presence in that
spooky dungeon struck terror to Pee-wee’s very
soul. He could not bring himself to move, much
less to speak. But he could not stand idly where
he was, and if he should stumble over a human form
in that unknown blackness.... What could be more
appalling than that? Was this uncanny place a
prison for poor, injured captives? Was there,
lying just a few feet from him, some suffering victim
of those scoundrels? What did it mean? Pee-wee
could only stand, listening in growing fear and agitation.

“Who’s there?” he finally asked,
and his own trembling voice seemed strange to him.

There was no answer.

“Who’s there?” he asked again.

Silence; only the low, steady sound; punctuated, as
it seemed by his own heart beats.

“Who—­is—­is anybody there?”

Then, suddenly, in a kind of abandon, he cast off
his fears and groped his way with hands before him
toward the low sound. Presently his hand was
upon something round and small. It had a kind
of tube running from it. He felt about this and
touched something else. He felt along it; it
was smooth and continuous.

And then he knew, and he experienced infinite relief.
His hand was upon the spare tire on the rear of the
car. The air was slowly escaping in irregular
jerks from the valve of this tire, making that low
sound, now hardly audible, now clearer and steadier,
that escaping air will sometimes cause when passing
through a leaky valve. The darkness and Pee-wee’s
own thumping heart had contributed to the horrible
illusion and he smiled in the utter relief which he
experienced by the discovery.

But one other discovery he had made also which gave
him an inspiration and made him feel foolish that
he had not had the inspiration before. The little
round thing that he had felt in about the center of
the tire was the red tail light of the car; he realized
that now. And this discovery reminded him that
he could have all the light he wanted by the mere
touching of a switch.

“That shows how stupid I am,” said Pee-wee.
He was so relieved and elated that he could afford
to be generous with self accusations. “One
thing sure, it shows how when you hunt for a thing
you find something else, so if you’re mistaken
it’s a good thing.”

This was logical, surely, and he now proceeded to
avail himself of the benefit of his chance discovery.
Presently this dank, mysterious, spooky dungeon would
be bathed in welcome light. Pee-wee climbed into
the front seat and moved his hand across the array
of nickel dials and buttons on the instrument board.
There seemed to be a veritable multitude of little
handles and indicators for the control of the Hunkajunk
super six touring model. Not even a wireless
apparatus, with which Pee-wee’s scouting experience
had made him familiar, had such a variety of shiny
little odds and ends.